


Free Fall

by elitemassacre6



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Alien Anya, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:24:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6718669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elitemassacre6/pseuds/elitemassacre6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke has been dreaming about a beautiful, graceful, alien woman for months now, so when the ship comes down in front of her and the woman is the one inside she's sure she's dreaming again. Soon enough she realizes she isn't dreaming at all. That the gorgeous woman she's been thinking about for so long is real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Fall

When Clarke opens her eyes, she is standing in a field of barley, watching what first looks to be a quickly falling star come directly towards her. This, you see, is how she is aware she is dreaming. This one in particular has been recurring for over a month. 

The star falling, seeing it as it is as it nears the ground, watching the ship crash to the ground in front of her, feet only inches from the edge of the crater. Then deep, hacking coughs and frantic inhales in search of air from within the pod. 

She climbs down to the center of the crater, sliding on the loose dirt. When she nears the small, pod sized ship, it's front hatch will open, and there she will be, suffocating. 

And there the woman will sit. Her skin a pale, nearly translucent, aqua. Features as sharp as any Clarke has ever seen, cheekbones like knives and nose angular, ears nonexistent. The woman's eyes are remarkable blue, Clarke can see and remember from continuous nights. Far darker, deeper, bluer than her own oceanic shade, almond shaped, but flat, irises large and following the shape of her eyes instead of being circular. Hair thin and feathery, a grey so pale it's almost white. 

"Adapt." Clarke says as always. Eyes flitting around the scene like they have not done before, attempting to take in any new detail. Blue eyes go wide and the woman breathes in deeply, the ship, obviously organic and perhaps alive, seems to do the same, shifting color from Blue grey to black and brown.... This is new. 

Clarke looks back towards this woman who she has seen in her dreams, including this one, for the last six months, watching as she calms, skin changing shades to match something only slightly darker than Clarke's own, eyes becoming mocha like and more human in shape. Her hair gets longer, thicker, dirty blonde. Clarke gasps. All of this is so new. This isn't the first time things have changed. A month ago she was dreaming of this woman flowing through a strange forest as if walking was beneath her. 

She watches as the woman who's name she has known but never been able to pronounce climbs out of her pod and stands in front her her on trembling legs, as if unsure how to use them. 

"Ai Ho... Houmon." She manages to say, voice rough and underused, but heavily raspy and smooth. 

"I Human? Yes. " Clarke asks, feeling foolish for speaking to this woman who's pod has just transformed into a rather enormous dog as if she is an imbecile. The woman, who she wishes she had a name for, turns back towards the dog as it comes to stand beside her, combing her hand through what might as well be a lion's mane around the gigantic beast's neck. Her confusion over the fact that this is actually happening, not to mention the previous ships easy transformation overwhelms her and she finds herself staring. 

In her dreams she always found the alien woman remarkably beautiful, and a sketch pad full of drawings of her, plus the painting on her living room wall prove that. Not to mention exceedingly graceful in a way Clarke has never seen anyone be. She was something else, a being from another world. 

What Clarke had never managed to understand was the reason she was having these dreams, if they were even anything more than her minds way of forcing her to experience something new and interesting. 

Now that it seemed they certainly were real, the question resurfaced. Why was she the one who this happened to? Who was this woman to her and why was she important?  
"Nou, Clarke kom Griffin. Yu laik ai houmon. Ai laik yu. Feranyalisavianis." She says, her language confusing Clarke in some places and completely going over her head in others. And then there is the name, it's inflection and pronunciation leaving her behind. 

"Fera... Anya? Yu... Laik... Anya?" She pieces together after a few minutes of pointed but strangely comfortable silence. Anya hums, nodding with a sweet but barely there smile. It falls when they hear noise from their right, far, but closing in. And barks, dogs. The giant of a canine next to Anya returns the sentiment. 

Clarke had seen too many movies of farm owners with shotguns and packs of dogs to be comfortable letting the three of them be found. Not to mention the huge crater they were standing in. What would the government do to Anya if they were discovered? Surely poke and prod her, experiment on her, take her ship-dog. 

She looks back at Anya, prepared to tell her they should go when she is beat to it. 

"Hmm... Sha. You may... Address me as Anya, Clarke. We must flee. Tris will make this impact unseen and then we shall relocate, it will be best if the happening is not recognized. Your location of... Your home is near?" Anya leads her from the crater by example, Clarke finding herself gasping when she turns to look back and the dog is coming towards them, the crater completely gone with no traces. 

She pulls her phone from her pocket, checking her GPS only to realize she is nearly a hundred and fifty miles from her home in Chicago. On some random farm in a more random small town in Michigan. Did she drive here? Suddenly, there is warmth against her back and Anya is looking over her shoulder. 

"Tris and I are off course by much distance. Did you ride to this location?" She asks, as the dog takes their side and Clarke looks toward where the road meets the field. It takes her another two minutes to check her phone and see her car is at home, in her parking spot. 

"No. I didn't. I woke up here. I thought it was just another dream, like always. I didn't think... I didn't know this was real, or if it was, that you would ever come to me." The choice of words knocks a few cobwebs from her still confused brain and raises just as many red flags. Is that what Anya did? What did houmon mean? Clarke's heart seems to speed up even more as the sounds of the dogs and their owner come closer. They are still a ways out, and won't yet see them, but they really have to vacate the premises. 

"I will always come to you, my princess of the earth. You must trust that, even if it takes me far longer than it should. Now, Tris will take us, come." Anya gently grabs her arm, pulling her to where the dog is gone and a new ship awaits, a single seat available for the both them. Anya sits, then pulls a rather shocked Clarke into her lap, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that they seem to be in the air above the farm seconds later.

Ten minutes later, the entire time spent with Anya touching every inch of the bio chemist she can reach, the hatch in front of them opens. When Clarke climbs out, petting the once again lion of a dog in thanks, they are on the roof of her apartment building. 

She leads the way toward the stairwell, down one flight, and into the thankfully speedy elevator. 

"This contraption moves far too slowly. It does not seem safe, ai prisa." Anya says seriously, wrapping a strong arm around a frustrated Clarke for the last ten seconds of the journey to the tenth floor. When it opens, she exhales loudly, fleeing exploring hands to walk down the hallway towards her apartment, she swipes her badge against the reader, pushing open her door harder than necessary. This stress is exactly what she's supposed to be avoiding. Wasn't that the point of her having the next two weeks off? To actually use her vacation days and relax? To finally stop stressing herself out over well... Everything? All the things she can't control? 

"This is your home, Clarke?" Anya asks, a smile curving her lips as she wonders over to touch the first of the about seventy five house plants Clarke owns. She's always been drawn to flora, and when she moved from her small town in North East Virginia, where the forest bordered her home on three sides to the city, filling her home with plant life had been her first priority. 

When she turns from caressing her fingertips over the leaves of the Orchid on her kitchen island then grabbing herself a bottle of water, there are two women in her living room instead of one. One of them however, is naked. Clarke gasps and chokes at the same time, tapping against her chest to clear her windpipe. This must be Tris, in her own human form. 

She seems young, more a teenager than anything. Clarke flees to her bedroom to retrieve the girl clothing. A set of loose, comfortable, but too short pants, and a faded green t-shirt. She'd kind of gotten into this raw, unbleached cotton thing , and these are two of the results. When she returns to her living room, Tris is trying to curve the leaves of her biggest plant over her breasts. It does curve to her will, but Clarke huffs , interrupting Anya, who is sticking her hands in all of the dirt her plants live in. 

"Erf prisa, greetings. This grows well. You are a nurturer of life." The teenager says when she turns to face her, releasing the leaf that previously covered her breasts. Clarke rolls her eyes and keeps them pointed at the girl's. They are surprising. Wise. 

"They all do. I make sure of it. Put these on please." She says seriously, forcing the clothes into the teenagers arms. 

"I apologize, but only that which has lived or lives may touch my skin." The soft clothes are forced back into her own arms and she sighs. 

"Which this has. Cotton. Put it on. My neighbors are nosy and one of them has the tendency to hack my door to steal my food. Clothing is customary." She set the clothes in waiting arms and turned, only to sprint over and pull Anya's hands and the watering bucket away from the soil of her favorite plant, her fuchsia. 

"No! Careful, Anya. She doesn't need more water. And too much can rot her roots." she brushed an exceedingly gentle caress over the purple petal of one of the upside down blooms, smiling. 

"You're okay, Gloria." She whispered. When she stood again, Anya's head was tilted in question. 

"You love them, those that make up this forest you have nurtured in this cold dwelling?" She asks seriously, hands behind her back and that near smile curving her lips again. 

"Of course I do. I take care of them, they take care of me." She says simply. 

"That is true, ai houmon. They love you as well, they say." Clarke raises a brow in minor confusion, but nods, turning to make sure Tris is dressed. Only, she's pretty positive she gave the girl a tee shirt and a pair of pants, not a forest green sundress. She just sighs, her confusion and the stress of dealing with this pretty insane situation forcing a deep, trembling, sigh from her lungs. She will take on one problem at a time. 

"What do you eat?" She asks, for once she is particularly hungry, her empty stomach rumbling quietly. 

"You have fruit here. Grain. Mushrooms. Vegetables. Anya will consume such things." Clarke nodded, sighing. Anya was vegan. She could do that, right? But what of Tris?

"And you, Tris?" The brunette just shook her head. 

"I need only your sun, oxygen, and water. It shall suffice." 

"Sure. Cool. Anya, you can eat soon." Right...because the teenage appearing girl in front of her being a walking talking plant wasn't weird at all. She escaped into her kitchen, immediately pulling together ingredients for a mushroom and veggie rice bowl. While she set a water filled pot and a pan with some vegetable oil on the stove, preparing to start cooking, she could hear the wandering footsteps of who she guessed was Anya. Then the woman was coming into the kitchen, pressing herself against Clarke's back. 

"You have created me. I am upon your wall. Do you desire me as well?" Her voice seems deeper and raspier even than when she first spoke, and Clarke maybe shudders just a little at the contact and the enticing voice whispering in her ear. She ignores the question for a few minutes, pouring the rice into the pot and dumping handfuls of mushrooms, zucchini, and red bell pepper into her pan. Satisfied, she turns, rather directly into the alien woman's arms since she gives her exactly no space to do so. 

"I dreamed of you for half of a year. You invaded my thoughts and filled my head. I had to get you out onto paper and eventually canvas just to have room to think. And no, I don't 'desire' you, Anya. I don't know you, or what the hell is happening, or why it's happening to me of all people. What I desire is for one of you to tell me what the hell is going on here!"

She feels pretty remorseful over her cursing and yelling as soon as it comes out of her mouth, and she knows her eyes must tell that story because the immediate and massive hurt that filled mocha eyes fades into something more manageable, though they face the floor. Something Clarke can fix with a heartfelt apology and hot food. Thinking of just that, she turns to toss the veggies in her pan and stir the rice then sighs as she turns to meet those eyes again, Tris standing in front of her now, too. Dark green eyes angry, brows furrowed. 

"I apologize for yelling, and cursing, and how I worded that, Anya. It was not my intention to hurt you, I hope you understand that. I'm just confused and stressed and frustrated. I need to understand what's happening here. I need one of you to tell me." She says honestly, still feeling insensitive for her behavior when Anya's eyes still have not left the floor. Tris glares at her, expression clearly saying: fix it. 

With gentle hands she lifts the woman's gaze from the recrete floor, stepping closer without any real thought. When she finally looks into them again, the light brown eyes and the expressive face around them tell her that Anya is more sad than hurt. 

"Hey, I'm sorry, Anya. I promise I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings or make you feel less than. I just don't understand at all and neither of you has told me anything I can comprehend, so I'm frustrated and I took it out on you. I apologize." She whispers out, her hands still holding onto Anya's sharp cheeks. 

"It is fine. Your frustration over the lack of information we have provided is felt. I apologize. Just... I would prefer if you did not raise your voice in anger at me, Clarke. Negativity between us, especially spoken or yelled aloud can fray the thread that ties us. It can take that, but only so long as you want it to. Do you understand?" She asks seriously, eyes focused and somehow slightly dimmed. 

"No? This... Link, are you saying that it is a connection between the both of us but only I keep it alive?" That seemed curious, and not how it should be if it was there at all. She turned, turning off her pan of vegetables and mushrooms and turning the rice down enough to keep it warm. Clarke went to turn back, but once again, Anya pressed herself against her back, though with far less pressure this time. The contact honestly felt good, and had the blonde wondering when last she had felt the soothing kind of pressure of another person against her. 

It must have been quite a while. For the last she remembered was a goodbye hug from her mom when she dropped her off at the airport a few months ago. They hadn't been close since her father had been missing and then presumed dead a few months into her freshman year of undergrad, but she had finally succumbed to her mother's insistence that they see each other after the twelve years apart with barely any communication. She remembered the way her mother had sighed and ruffled her hair upon entering her apartment and seeing her jungle of plants, so like her father's. 

These days they at least texted every day and face timed every week, but Clarke knew she would never be as close to her mother as she had been to her dad, her hero. He was on an expedition in Borneo when he and his entire team were lost without any knowledge of where or why. He was a botanist, everything she wanted to be when she grew up. Until he died and she decided that even though she couldn't get herself to speak to her mother after all the horrible things she'd said about Jake Griffin when they were informed of his death, maybe she'd do something closer to her mom's profession of doctor than her father's which had killed him. In the end, by the time she left grad school she had degrees in both her major of biological chemistry and and her botany minor. 

Sighing, still hating to think of losing her father from thousands and thousands of miles away, she served up Anya's breakfast in a black bowl, sticking a spoon inside before she turned in her arms and backed up a few steps to hand it over. The taller woman dug in, grinning after her first bite. 

"This preparing of food that humans do is not without merit. This is very delicious, ai prisa, mochof." 

"Do your people not cook food?" Anya shook her head, serving herself another bowl when she finished the first. 

"We do not. We eat what is provided for us as it is provided for us, our bodies are made for it. Fire is dangerous and near forbidden, we would have no way to do so without it, would we?" Clarke frowned, shrugging. 

"There are other methods and technologies. But if your physiology has evolved towards a raw diet, it would be better that your people continue as such, anyway. Are there no other animals on your planet? Is that why you do not eat meat?"

"Her species are the only animals left on land. There are beasts in the sea but those that are not large and dangerous are poisonous." Tris comes into the kitchen to say, leaning over the still hot but now turned off stove to smell the food. Clarke watches as she carefully picks up a mushroom and pops it in her mouth.

"I...can consume these." She says, tone even as she steals the spoon halfway to Anya's mouth to shove it into her own. 

"Will none of that mess with your photosynthetic systems?" Clarke asks worryingly, opening her refrigerator to hand the brunette a bottle of water. 

"I am human. Mostly, and for now. I will eat, and then we will explain what you need to know, as you wish-someone is opening your door, prisa." Tris moved to stand in front of them both, eyes hard as the door finally opened and a dark haired brunette walked in as if this was her apartment. 

"Sup, Clarke? What're you doing up? It's like five am. Also, since when are you willing to let anyone but your mom into your place? Who might these two be?"

"I believe Clarke should be asking questions. You have just infiltrated her domicile with little care. You will leave. Now." Anya said, stepping forward to face the girl who was currently digging a spoon into the pot of rice just to shove it in her mouth gracelessly. 

"I'm Raven. Clarke's neighbor. I came to steal milk. I want cinnamon toast crunch but O drank all the milk yesterday and Bell didn't go the the store yet." Clarke sighed in annoyance, pulling the carton of lactaid milk from the fridge and shoving it into Raven's hands. 

"Go, Rave. We'll talk later."

"No we won't." The other woman said, frowning in what looked to be disappointment and resignation. Clarke sighed, fidgeting uncomfortably. 

"Look, I'm sorry about last time. I promise I'll call. Or maybe even come over." Raven's expression changed and suddenly she was angry. 

"You always say that! And then you ignore my phone calls and I have to break into your place just to make sure you're doing something other than work and sitting in here talking to your plants. You're a recluse Clarke. And we worry about you, okay? If I have to pretend to need milk to make sure you're okay then I'm gonna do that. Because you aren't going to call me. Or Bell. Or even O." Raven sighed, waving her free absentmindedly as she left the apartment, leaving Clarke a frowning, honestly pretty bummed, mess. 

Bellamy, Octavia, and Raven were her only... We're they friends? Did she have friends? She sometimes talked with Monty and Miller at lunch breaks at work, and when they left the lab to go out for lunch they went together. 

"I do not know what is wrong with conversing with plants. She was rude, erf prisa. Is she truly a friend of yours?" Anya wrapped her arms around her back, a soft, trilling hum leaving her throat and instantly calming her tight frame, furrowed brow, and pinched frown. 

"I don't think I have friends, Tris. But Raven, Bellamy, and Octavia are the closest to qualifying for that title. They care about me, and Raven is right, they check on me when I'm at my worst." Tris nodded. 

"It is good you have a break from this work of yours then. Contact is important for the link and your mind. You and Anya shall spend some time joined. Go now, I will eat what remains." Missing any kind of will to decline, never mind having the energy to ask any questions or explain anything more, Clarke just nodded, letting Anya lead her towards her room. Later, she'd be sure to ask how Tris knew she had time off work. 

When they reach her bedroom, Clarke finally looks down to realize she is in her pajamas, barefoot with farming soil covering the soles of her feet. It takes her five minutes to go to the bathroom and wash her feet clean in the shower, then dry them. When she returns to her room, Anya is sitting cross legged on the bed, completely naked, her green flight suit peeled off her skin as if painted on and discarded on the floor. Clarke stops, eyes wide with her shock. 

"You must disrobe as well. We will join and you will come to know the answers to the questions you wish to ask. I will also help you shed your hurt and pain, and you may help me erase mine if you so choose." 

"This...joining...I mean, do we have to have sex?" That, she does not think she is comfortable with. It has been too long, and the last person she shared her body with, a woman she'd met at a plant bio conference named Lexa, was gone when she woke. And as amazing of a night as that had been, she wasn't comfortable with the idea of one night stands for herself. And dating was too much work, requiring more from her than she was willing to give. 

"Joining of the bodies is not required, no. Does the idea frighten, or disgust you?" She asked seriously, obviously hoping Clarke's answer was the former if it had to be either. 

"You couldn't... I mean I'm not comfortable with casual sex. And not knowing exactly what this joining is isn't helping. I'm also not sure how comfortable I am being naked in front of you. I'm not... I mean you're all tight muscle and six pack and I'm.. Not." Anya frowned, laying her hands calmly on her thighs. 

"Any sex between us would never be casual, ai houmon. We are linked, Clarke. And it is a melding of each keryon into one for however long you wish to sustain it. Our bodies will be two, as will our minds, but our spirits will join together. Our thoughts and feelings , corporeal and otherwise, shared among us. And Clarke, ai hodnes... You have no reason to fear judgement from my eyes and mind concerning your body. For now we are opposing in some ways. Where I am hard, you are soft. Where I am salty you are sweet. Soon enough we will meet somewhere near the middle. Your body is as beautiful as anything I have ever witnessed. Beja, know that." The blonde nodded, letting the clear honesty and the sweetness of the words sweep over her, calming her racing heart. 

Before she could hold herself back as always, she pulled her Northwestern hoodie over her head, taking only a moment longer to steel herself enough to push her shorts down her admittedly shaky legs and climb onto her bed and onto Anya's waiting body once the woman laid down. Their bodies pressed together skin against skin, and Clarke shuddered out a satisfied breath at the feel of their thighs and breasts rubbing together. Anya's hands came up to cup her cheeks and bring their foreheads together. Her eyes shifted, the honey like brown slipping away into that mesmerizingly deep, dark, blue. 

That trilling tone leaving her throat again. Clarke found herself melting into the hold and relaxing completely. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, her linked one did the same below her. They breathed together, hearts playing the same beat. 

'She's beautiful, but what is this? Is this the link, this feeling? Like duality." Anya smiled at her, and Clarke felt herself returning the gesture. 

'I am glad that you find my body pleasing to your eyes, ai prisa. It is yours to do with as you please. And yes, hodnes, this is the link. I hear your thoughts and you mine. Our pain and pleasure is shared.' Anya thought, knowing her houmon would hear it. 

'Princess, love... Houmon. Wife?' Clarke discovered, Anya's thoughts and knowledge open to her. 

'Sha, Clarke. I was sent to you. To be yours and for you to be mine. To save your people and mine. But also because I dreamt of you as you have of me. Our hearts and souls have been bound together across the stars. And I am glad that it was you and not another.' She thinks, voice playing in the human woman's head as if she'd spoken aloud. Clarke felt warm and more comfortable in another person's presence than she had felt in many years. When she lifted an arm from the sheets and caressed her fingers against the exposed side of Anya's left breast, she hears both of them gasp in pleasure, and takes a moment to examine the connection. 

She recognizes how good it feels, but from Anya's perspective it seems. It doesn't transfer to her own body, her brain just receives the signal from the woman below her, so she feels it as well. Without feeling the always present reluctance, she lowers her body completely, humming quietly at the feel of every inch of their skin that can touch doing just that. 

'You feel good. And I'm comfortable with this, at least. Can I… would it be okay if I touched you more? Here, and here?' She moves side to side a bit, their breasts rubbing together, nipples brushing on the odd pass. Then moves her knees between longer legs, spreading them enough for their hips to touch. All of it feels good, twice as much. From both her and Anya. Whose hips thrust up into her own, spreading wetness against her skin when her position changes and her thigh slips between two more muscular ones. They both moan at the pressure. 

'My body is yours, ai houmon. Give or take what you will.' Clarke frowns at hearing that again though, settling further between strong legs to shelter the supine woman with her body as completely as possible. 

"You say that as if you’ve memorized and rehearsed the line. I think... I care about you, Anya. What do you... I mean do you want any of this? Do you even want me?" She sits up as she says this aloud, climbing off of Anya to gather up her throw blanket and lay it over herself while she backed into the corner. 

"Clarke, why have you shut me out? I did not mean... The words I thought and have said were not meant to hurt you so. Please, open to me. It... Pains to be forcefully cut off."

"Then do it normally. You can stay here, I'll sleep on the couch." She stood, feeling hurt and rejected all over again as she wrapped the soft blue blanket higher around her shoulders and walked out of her bedroom. 

"Ai prisa beja, I am sorry!" Anya pleaded loudly, chasing after her just as Clarke reached the living room and found Bellamy, Octavia, and Raven sitting around looking at her, then at a naked Anya when she caught up. 

"Totally knew you were getting laid. Little twisted though, Griff. Fucking the older sister of your public school Chem program buddy. I can ignore it since you're at least talking to people. Plus you haven't got laid in like a year and Anya is definitely a good choice." Octavia explained, eyes inspecting every inch of Anya's body until Clarke scowled and threw the blanket around strong shoulders, stepping in tight to the woman to cover herself once again 

"Mine!" Leaves her mouth in a pretty vicious snarl without her permission. She sighs when all three of her neighbors chuckle. 

'I am yours, ai hodnes. And I am also sorry if you have misunderstood. I will clarify, may we retire to your bed now?' Is thought, once against coming clear across their link.

'Don't call me that! You don't mean it. And I don't want you to be mine because you're being forced to.' Anya whimpers, her emotional pain flowing over the link to pile on top of Clarke's own, and she replicates the sound. When Raven's brow raises above her dark eyes, Clarke turns to direct them back towards her room. When her back is in the corner and Anya is sitting once again exposed in front of her, she sighs.

'I speak the way I do to you because it is how I have been raised. Once it was discovered that I was destined to be the one tied to Tris, that she would bring me here to you, I was taken from my mother and taken to be raised and trained by the elders. I was with Tris the entire time, learning about our planet's history, as well as yours. Then how I was to serve you, to help you fix things between our two homes. And then the dreams came. First of a man with light hair and your eyes wandering through a jungle. And then there was you. Years of dreams of your life later, Tris woke me in the night and we left. We traveled past stars, beyond the center of the Galaxy, and then finally to your arm of it. We reached your planet, and you have been present for the rest. But do not confuse things. I have been raised to be by your side, and in many ways I resented the elders and you for that. But through my dreams I have come to know and love you, Clarke. Please believe me. I would not ever intend to hurt you and I would never reject you. Do you understand?' 

'My dad!'

'Yes. He studied the plants, respected them as one should. Then he discovered something which should never have been where it was, never been here on earth.' 

'What was it? What could it have been? Something from your planet?' Anya nodded, slowly crawling across the bed to be nearer to her linked one. 

'Yes. A mother plant. Fruitless, but growing to a stage in which it would be able.' Clarke closed her eyes, pulled Anya into her arms, and imagined this mother plant. What she saw was a tree, but a strange one. Grey, smooth, skin-like bark, aqua leaves with that same skin like texture, the pods from which children were born, a constant warmth emanating from it's heart. Deep blue, and buried within the roots. A soft voice singing in that trilling tone. 

"Noumon."

'Noumon... Mother. You were born from her?' Anya nodded, humming in satisfaction when Clarke settled a pillow behind her back and lay back on it, allowing her mate to cuddle into her chest, head resting on one of her abundant breasts. 

'Why would a noumon be here? How would she even get here? Is she the reason your people knew of us to begin with? And what happened to my father?'

'Once he found her, I woke, and I never dreamed of him again. We must find them both. But first we must ready ourselves.'

'It's been ten years...Is he still alive? I'm afraid to find out. What you've said gives me more information, though. When his team didn't check in after a few months they were just presumed dead but this says he was alive, right?' Anya nodded, lifting herself enough to shift forward and lay her lips against Clarke's. The rightness of it, the way it felt intrinsically natural to be doing this with her, had the earthling woman relaxing into something akin to a boneless mass, letting the comfort their link gave them both feed her already present desire to let go and receive whatever pleasure Anya deigned to give her. 

"I wish to help you let go as you have not for too long, ai tombom en keryon. May I?" While she waits for Clarke's mind to clear enough to coherently answer, she strokes flushed, heated, skin with praised strokes, her lips and tongue worshiping her neck and throat. 

"Please... " Is what leaves her moth, tone husky. Only seconds later, two deft, agile fingers are inside of her, working with the aliens lips and tongue to bring her far too quickly towards a high peak. She wondered how Anya was even managing to focus on her when she was obviously feeling all of the same pleasure. Their harmonious moans and cries of pleasure filled the room, increasing in urgency, frequency, and pitch, as Anya shifted her hips to use them in aid to her now deeper, firmer, thrusts. 

"Ahn!" Clarke screamed out on a particularly pleasurable curl of thin fingers against her walls, a few more identical attempts have her cries going silent and her spine stiffening as they both fall over the edge together. They breathe heavily for almost ten minutes, feeling boneless in each other's arms.

"It's weird you know. How okay I feel."

"I do know, yes. That you are accustomed to just getting by and always feeling as if something is wrong and missing. If that thing is me, I am glad to bring some sense of completion in your life, Clarke.

"I think maybe you do. But I know I can't have any closure until I know what happened to my father. If we're going, we'll need gear. Do you have any idea of where he was or near where?"

'Yes. He spoke to a colleague about the nearest village. Tris will take us, and I will have to guide us from there.' Anya thought, fingers trailing lightly along Clarke's ribs.  
'He told me the expedition was going to search for and catalog new or unique flora species. But I don't know who funded it, who he went with, anything.'

"Hodness, calm yourself, beja. We will find his trail. The jungle forest will aid us. Flora does not forget even when fauna does. We will follow his trail to the noumon and she will tell us of him, of what has occurred. When we wake we shall go what you call shopping. To acquire what we will need. For now, let us rest, Clarke." The human just nodded, running her hand through dirty blonde hair where it splays out from her stomach. Anya's tender, continuous, caresses to her hip have her fading into sleep with only the thought of how right it feels to fall asleep in each other's arms.


End file.
